The best thing about fifth grade is that it ends eventually. The second best thing about fifth grade is that nearly without exception, everyone in it a hybrid monster sitting precariously on the border between childhood and adolescence which results in them doing uncomfortable things like still playing with Barbie but making her have multiple abortions. Or singing out loud to Hole in front of their parents because they're mature enough to realize that it's good but don't realize that all of the songs are about bulimia, incest, and rape. You know, hypothetically.

Last weekend when people were having a case of the "Holy Shit We Are All So Old"s because they realized that Kurt Cobain has been dead for twenty years, I fired up the old iTunes to get my Nirvana on. I should confess that if I had to make the Sophie's choice of either ridding the world of Pearl Jam or ridding the world of Nirvana, I would let Nirvana go. Both because I think Pearl Jam was better and because I am holding out hope that Eddie Vedder will invite me into a plural marriage with him and his wife. But I digress. Nirvana was still pretty fucking good, even if I had no idea what in the sam hill they were talking about. Below, my most proud moments in childhood musical musings.

Song: Plateau

Real Lyrics: "Nothin' on top but a bucket and a mop and an illustrated book about birds."

Alana's Lyrics: Nothin' on top but a bucket and a mop and a new, straight-up book about birds."

You know, because all of the previous books written about birds were beating around the fucking bush and not giving us straight answers about the airborne scoundrels. This straight-up version was going to give us the answers we were all looking for. I still have no idea what this song is about.

Meat-eating orchids, tar-pit trap, umbilical noose, and heart-shaped box. It didn't take Courtney taking to Twitter in 2012 to school Lana Del Rey that this song was about her box for anyone with half a boner to figure it out. This song makes it clear why that woman has bedded so many desirables: vaginal witchcraft.

Song: Pennyroyal Tea

I didn't misinterpret any of the lyrics to this song but I did think that pennyroyal tea was some kind of cool beverage that I should try out and feel special and grown-up, the same way I felt when I ate sushi for the first time at Costco (nee: Price Club) and threw up into a trash can almost immediately after. Turns out, pennyroyal tea is an abortifacient and it is probably best that I didn't ask my mom to get me some at the grocery store, lest she become suspicious of my nighttime neighborhood dalliances.

Song: In Bloom

Real Lyrics: "Nature is a whore"

Alana's Lyrics: "Raised a little whore"

Ironically, assumed that maybe this one was about Courtney instead of Heart-Shaped Box. I still refuse to sing along to this one because the whole point of the song is to make fun of people that sing along to shit and I am too goddam cool for that.